Case Study
by poxelda
Summary: What happens when Cage goes a little too far trying to figure our MacGyver? A one shot, based on a prompt by Leah


******While I'm not doing tags for season 2 until the end of the season, Leah gave me a suggestion too delicious to ignore-takes place at a poker game, may or may not be the one in Roulette wheel + wire  
**

Cage studied the faces around the table as they considered the cards they were dealt. The gift and curse of being a skilled interrogator was the need to pick apart and understand what was going on in a person's brain. Whether she wanted to or not, she always noticed every microexpression, every body movement. Poker was the best time to do that. She smiled and threw in a small pile of chips.

Bozer was easy. Cage was surprised that Wilt could manage to keep anything a secret. He was almost squirming, his voice elevated and the speed of his speech faster. He might as well have a flashing neon sign that said he had a sweet hand. Riley was surprisingly good at keeping her face an unemotional mask, but she couldn't control her eyes. They flashed with whatever emotion floated by unless the younger women consciously hit behind her brave face. Cage had seen that in many prison inmates. To survive in supermax, you learned to show nothing, feel nothing. If Riley had been in another year, the vibrancy in her eyes would be gone. Riley grinned as she scooped up the pile of chips. She smiled and teased Bozer and Jack.

Cage smiled at their antics. She shared a knowing glance with Matty. Matty rolled her eyes pretending that she wasn't grinning. Cage pulled a stray strand back from her face. Her yellow mane flew wild at the best of times. She didn't like it, but it was useful as role camouflage. She'd known Matty for a long time and knew all of the women tells although Matty did surprise her at times. Watching her with this team was a revelation. She'd never seen Matty so casual, so...loving toward her agents. It did feel like a family. Cage found the dynamics fascinating.

Jack was interesting. Cage had made the mistake of labeling him as a loudmouth braggart, but she'd come to see what an act that was. Under his rude humor and odd sense of humor, the former Delta had a depth and intelligence few credited to him. Cage knew that anyone in special services not only excelled in fighting and training but had to have a certain level of inner strength and tactical genius. As a leader in Delta Force, Jack was one of the best of the best. Cage grinned and shook her head as she raised the pot. Not that you would know it by meeting him.

Cage felt MacGyver studying her. Cage frowned. Of all of them, Mac intrigued her the most. You didn't have to be a skilled observer to see that he was the heart and glue of this team. Cage raised an eyebrow. Mac's mouth quirked up into a smile Cage could only call wickedly mischievous. She laid down her cards. Mac's smile turned almost apologetic as he scooped the pot. She sighed and leaned back taking a sip of beer.

On the one hand, Mac was easy to read. He had a depth of honesty and sincerity that Cage had first thought was an act. Cage had been stunned to find it was no act. Her eyes narrowed as she studied her hand. She wondered if while sincere it wasn't a form of pathology. She discarded three cards and smiled sweetly as she received her cards. Mac smiled at Jack and rolled his eyes.

Cage sorted her cards and threw in a few chips. She studied the two men out of the corner of her eyes. Their relationship fascinated her. Jack was apparently Mac's bodyguard. Cage could see why the knowledge the younger man had in his head made him a valuable asset. Cage did not doubt that of everyone at the table Mac had the potential to be the most deadly. It made sense Phoenix would capitalize on that, but their relationship was a curious mix of brothers or maybe father-son. They complimented each other well that much Cage had seen for herself. It was obvious Jack was the muscle and Mac was the brains, but it was more than that. Cage narrowed her eyes. Mac was well trained in hand to hand, but nowhere near the level of Jack or herself, of course. He'd served in the army with Jack but never carried a gun. Cage sighed and folded.

They took a long break. Cage stood by herself watching the others.

"Having fun picking us all apart?" Mac said at her elbow. Cage gasped surprised. Mac raised an eyebrow in amusement. He held out a fresh beet. Cage smiled and took it.

"Yes, some more than others." Cage said with a smile designed to be disarming. Something flashed in Mac's eyes, but it was gone before she could decide what it was.

"I'm surprised you aren't winning more." There was a hint of challenge under the teasing. Cage's smile dropped a notch. Mac was quiet unless he had something to say. He was the personification of still waters run deep. He challenged her in short kind questions leaving her off balance. Cage frowned. She did not like being off balance. It was like he challenged her to lose the position of the professional observer and join the family, to trust him and through him all the others.

"You of all people know bluffing is only part of the game." Mac nodded and glanced away. The introspective gaze told her he'd gone off into the strange universe of numbers, formulas, and facts that spun around his skull. Cage had read that he was a genius and had been surprised that he never finished MIT. Meeting him, she realized why. His endless intellect and curiosity never stopped. Cage studied him. What must it be like in that head?

The rest of the game went on until after midnight. Matty went home having a meeting with oversight first thing in the morning. Bozer took Riley home, and they were going to have a grudge match of Resident Evil.

Mac got up and started cleaning up the bottles and dishes. Jack rounded up the cards and left to haul the card table up to the attic. Cage decided this was her chance. She went into the kitchen. Mac looked up and smiled. The man looked tired. Cage wondered how much sleep he got on a regular basis. Cage then wondered if it was nightmares. Cage needed to know what demons kept him up at night, what couldn't his brain process?

"Did you have fun?" Mac asked with a friendly smile.

"Oh yes. I notice you don't wear your father's watch anymore, is it broken?" Mac blinked at her surprised. Cage could see a wall of suspicion immediately pop up in his eyes. He turned away and shrugged.

"There's no reason to wear it all the time. Besides, it might get broken." Half truth.

"Makes sense, you wouldn't want to lose your only connection to him." Cage said. Mac shot her a cold look. Interesting.

"It's the only one for now." He said. Defensiveness tightened his voice. Cage smiled disarmingly.

"I'm sure you'll find him soon." Mac sighed and shrugged. He looked like a kid who found out a baseball game was canceled.

"I hope so." Mac couldn't hide the layers of pain and grief building in his eyes. Without thinking about it, Cage pounced.

"Do you have any idea why he left?" Mac glared at her stiffening. He stood up, his jaw clenched. Cage thought this was probably his core wound. "If you could figure out that, you could understand where he went."

Mac's blue eyes flashed with anger that vanished in an instant. Mac had incredible self control. He stood straight and crossed his arms. He gave her a sarcastic half smile.

"You know, I would never have thought of that." Cage winced. She held up a hand.

"I'm sorry, Mac, the hazard of my job." Mac studied her. Even though he stood still eyeing her, Cage could almost him vibrate with restlessness.

"I'm sure. Sooner or later you'll have to realize we aren't your job." His voice was soft but held that same quiet challenge that raised Cage's hackles.

"I'm just trying to get to know everybody. Can I ask you a question?" Mac sighed and itched his nose. He nodded.

"What happened to your mother?" Cage wasn't ready for the stricken look

that crossed Mac's face. He shrugged and turned away walking into the living room.

"She died."

"Your father left you after she died? Who took care of you?" Mac sat on the

couch. His mask was cracking. Cage sat on the other couch.

"My grandfather." Mac's voice was thicker with emotion, and he gazed into the middle distance.

"Did he leave you too or did he die?" Mac glared at her with warning anger. She ignored it knowing she was getting closer to understanding what made Mac tick.

"What is this Cage? Why the inquisition?" Mac asked. Cage retreated taking a sip of beer.

"I just want to know what makes you tick; you fascinate me." Mac shook his head and leaned forward.

"I'm not a case study or prisoner, Cage." Cage nodded. Mac yawned and rubbed his eyes.

"You haven't been sleeping." Mac closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead, "Dreams that others will abandon you? Like Jack?" Cage knew she'd way overstepped the second it was out of her mouth. Mac looked at her naked pain in his eyes too deep for him to hide or wash away. "I mean, it makes sense I imagine with your history you probably see him die a lot in your sleep. It's common…" Cage told herself she was trying to help, but she realized she'd stripped Mac naked and violated a place he never let anyone see. He'd gone pale, and she could see his eyes glisten with tears. Cage stood up to go to his side to try to comfort him. She hadn't meant to hurt him, had she?

A tight vice grip on the back of her neck made her realize her real mistake; she'd forgotten Mac had a protector.

"I need to talk to you, now." Jack's voice had an edge of menace that let her know he could snap her neck and it wouldn't keep him up a minute of the night. His fingers dug in and directed her toward the front door. Cage had no other option. Mac had pulled his knees to his chest and laid his head in circled arms. Cage opened her mouth to call back an apology, but a hard shove out the front door interrupted her. Cage caught herself before she fell flat on her face. She spun. Jack stood his arms across his chest. His face was stone, his eyes darker than muzzles of guns pointed to kill her.

"Jack…" She began bracing herself for the explosion. There was no explosion.

"What's your angle?" Jack asked quietly. Cage blinked in surprise. It was like Jack was a completely different person. Cage felt a shiver down her spine, an unemotional deadly kind of person. She stood up and pushed her hair back.

"I don't have an angle, Jack…?"

"So you're just a bitch?" Jack said his cold voice laced with disbelief. He stepped close. Cage surprised herself by backing up. She imagined Jack walking around a prisoner in dim light. Cage's heart raced.

"I didn't mean…" Jack stood, his face less than six inches from her.

"You thought it'd be fun to twist Mac's head off and poke around to see what kicked." Cage opened her mouth to deny it but stopped. She looked down. Jack snorted.

"I'm not sure what you're really up to, but I'm putting you on notice. Mac is out of bounds. If I find you messing with his head, or irritating him or even making him slightly annoyed, I will end you." Only stubbornness gave Cage courage to meed the dark eyes flaming with barely controlled rage.

"You take your role of protector seriously." Cage managed. Jack smiled. It was the chilling smile of a pouncing puma.

"Don't ever forget that." Jack hissed. Cage nodded and stepped back. She glanced at the house and let out a deep breath.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry." She said. She pivoted and walked to her car. Jack stood at the door staring at her until she drove away. Cage growled and hit the steering wheel. She honestly hadn't meant to hurt Mac, but...Cage huffed and stopped at a stop sign. She pursed her lips her curiosity again getting the better of her. She turned the car around and drove back up the hill. She clicked off her lights and drove past Mac's house. She pulled up behind a copse of trees and watched as Jack walked Mac out to the deck an arm around his narrow shoulders.

Cage couldn't tell if the younger man was crying or not. Jack left Mac's side and lit the fire. Cage got the feeling she was watching a ritual between them. Jack sat beside his partner. Mac's shoulders hunched and the two men began to talk. Cage watched their body language. Mac instinctively leaned toward Jack. Cage had never seen that level of trust before. Cage gasped surprised. Jack looked up, and his eyes honed in on her location. Rationally she knew there was no way the Delta saw her, but she couldn't help but feel he measured the distance for a sniper shot. Cage put her car in gear and drove up the hill circling the block heading home. She clicked on the radio and absently hummed along with the music her mind whirling.

She felt sorry for upsetting her teammates but couldn't deny she'd found the whole interview interesting. Cage again heard Mac remind her they weren't case studies and sighed. She fought a yawn. The curse of being an interrogator is that everyone was a case study.


End file.
